I loved Veronica Roth’s “Divergent”… and I hated it. Before you dust off the psychiatric hospital recommendations, let me explain.

“Divergent” is a young adult dystopian science fiction novel, one of my favorite genres. Roth builds a world where citizens are divided based on their primary personality traits. A child of age may choose to join a different faction or remain with his or her family. Each tribe offers societal services compatible with their unique talents. The members of the Abnegation are selfless and modest. The people of Candor are honest and love to debate. Scholarly individuals go into Erudite. Hospitable, social members of the community are found in Amity.

The most intriguing faction, the Dauntless, crave danger and adventure.

The gaps between the buildings narrow and the roads are smoother as we near the heart of the city. The building that was once called the Sears Tower—we call it the Hub—emerges from the fog, a black pillar in the skyline. The bus passes under the elevated tracks. I have never been on a train, though they never stop running and there are tracks everywhere. Only the Dauntless ride them.

In a spellbinding story of action and adventure, Roth takes the reader on a train ride with the Dauntless, hand-in-hand with a girl from Abnegation struggling to find her place in society. “Divergent” examines the little boxes into which we organize ourselves and others, illuminating the young adult’s persistent dilemma of who am I? and where do I belong?

Today is the day before Visiting Day. I think of Visiting Day like I think of the world ending: Nothing after it matters. Everything I do builds up to it. I might see my parents again. I might not. Which is worse? I don’t know.

In spite of the narrow nature of each faction’s primary attribute, the characters are multifaceted and complicated. They surprise you. Themes of self-discovery and courage make the story a satisfying read.

So what’s my problem?

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“I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.” Shakespeare’s words ring literally true in Andrew Niccol’s cinematic marriage of ‘Bonnie and Clyde’ with ‘Robin Hood.’

‘In Time’ takes place in a future where physical aging has been genetically altered to end at 25. At that time, a year begins to count down on your arm. When your time runs out, you die. If you can earn or steal more time, you can extend your life infinitely. In this world, people are divided in time zones based on their wealth, and Timekeepers – half cop, half agents of order – ensure that no one breaks the rules and advances illegally.

Justin Timberlake plays Will, a struggling factory worker who has been gifted over a century of time by Henry (Matt Bomer), a man who has grown tired of living. With his new wealth and knowledge, Will goes to New Greenwich, the lap of luxury, intent on stealing time from the wealthy to distribute to the masses – time that has been stolen from them through manipulated markets that ensure the rich earn more time while the poor continually struggle to make it through each day. There, he meets Sylvia (Amanda Seyfried), the daughter of Philippe (‘Mad Men’s’ Vincent Kartheiser), who owns an eternity of time. When Timekeepers track Will to New Greenwich and try to arrest him for supposedly stealing the minutes and murdering Henry, he kidnaps Sylvia and goes on the run, racing against not only the Timekeepers but a dwindling clock.

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Genre movies offer filmmakers the chance to step a toe or two on the soap box of their choice. Think George A. Romero’s anti-consumerism vibe from ‘Dawn of the Dead’ and the immigrant’s lament at the heart of ‘District 9.’

‘Attack the Block’ pits an unruly gang against a wave of aliens, and darned if the movie doesn’t touch on class envy as well as nature versus nurture arguments amidst the creature attacks. But writer/director Joe Cornish refuses to let sloganeering mar his feature film debut.

Cornish also risks audience sympathy by making heroes out of a gaggle of petty thugs. He’s piled so much on his plate it’s a small miracle a taut science fiction thriller emerges from the wreckage.

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Liberal film critic, Roger Ebert, called Battle: Los Angeles “noisy, violent, ugly and stupid”.  BigHollywood.com Editor-In-Chief, John Nolte, called it “wildly entertaining and subversive”.  That was all I needed to read to know this was a “must see” movie.  And it most definitely is…in fact, movie goers overseas agree as this epic sci-fi film garnered a first place finish in its second weekend overseas bringing in $27.1 million…with Rango, the animated film about the chameloen sheriff (Johhny Depp) earning $17.5 million in its third weekend.  Now that’s American exceptionalism…on the big screen!

As a retired Air Force veteran, I viewed this movie from a slightly different vantage point than one who has never served in our armed forces. And I loved every minute of this fast-paced, heart-stopping, riveting movie…silently cheering on the small platoon of courageous Marines, led by 2nd Lieutenant William Martinez (Ramon Rodriguez), sent out on what seemed like a suicide mission to rescue a few stranded civilians in Santa Monica before the Air Force was to completely level the entire city that had fallen to a devastating alien invasion.

What was originally reported to be meteors falling into the ocean along the Los Angeles coastline (as well as the coastlines of 20 other major cities around the world) was quickly determined to be a well-orchestrated invasion of a massive force of seemingly impossible-to-kill aliens… and they were everywhere… annhilating everything and everyone in their path.  As I watched the fast-paced, chaotic, and gripping action unfold, I often found myself holding my breath and sitting on the edge of my seat — myheart racing wildly, pulling for our heroes.  It has been a long time since I’ve been to a movie that left me exhausted like that, in a good way.

I appreciated how they introduced each member of the platoon and gave us a little insight into their frame of mind just prior to their embarking on this terrifying mission, setting the stage for some of the heart-wrenching actions and decisions that occurred throughout the movie.  It made them more real to me, as real as the stories and situations faced every day by our men and women deploying overseas into hostile combat zones.

The main hero of the movie, Staff Sergeant Nantz (Aaron Eckhart), was very convincing as a tough, no-nonsense, war-weary Marine.  In spite of having just gotten his retirement papers signed — a man who was struggling with some demons from his past (something not uncommon to our brothers and sisters who have served in a war zone) — SSgt Nantz displayed the kind of leadership, ingenuity, courage, selflessness, and compassion commonly found in the members of our military, most especially in our Marines, who are always on the front lines … and go where few dare to go.

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“And then some bulls*** happens.”

That’s how the initial treatment of Aliens (then called Alien II) tapered off after a mere twenty pages. Producers David Giler and Walter Hill had done little more than describe the basic setup: “Ripley and soldiers” versus the eponymous creatures. The rest, they decided, was for the guy who wrote The Terminator to flesh out.

Getting fired from Piranha Part Two: The Spawning, a schlocky job-for-hire, convinced James Cameron there was only one way he could make his Hollywood dreams come true. “I knew I was never going to be offered another movie,” he later explained about that time, “unless I came up with something myself. I had to write a film that made sense for me as a director. I thought it had to have effects that would justify my existence on the project, and I also had to not price myself out of the kind of budget that studios were likely to trust me with.”

So a guy who already specialized in sci-fi special effects and production art decided to add screenwriter to his list of talents. Using his fiery fever-nightmare about a killer robot as his jumping off point, and calling on many of the seminal sci-fi influences of his youth, he proceeded to write The Terminator. Each effect and action scene was thoroughly dissected on paper: Could I do this on a micro-budget? What special effect tricks could pull it off? Just like his early demo-film Xenogenesis, this would be a movie designed not just to entertain, but to show Hollywood what he could do. (more…)

Science fiction is a strange genre, liberally blending the past, present, and future into wonderful new forms. It takes a special mind to seamlessly achieve this mixture, to get an audience to truly believe that what they are seeing on the screen, fantastic as it is, is a living, breathing (and, in the case of Aliens, screaming) world. James Cameron is one part cerebral Vulcan scientist and one part wistful artistic hippie, with more than a bit of raging Scottish highlander sprinkled on top. It’s hard to imagine the movie ever coming into being without that curious makeup fueling its creation from first to last.

Cameron was the oldest child in a Canadian family of five. Born in 1954 and growing up near Niagara Falls, he was just in time to catch the tail end of the atom bomb/Sputnik hysteria and to spend his teen years watching Vietnam play out on the nightly news. “In my youth I was an absolutely rabid science fiction fan,” he says. “I read all the classics, all the old Ace paperback novels. I was really into people like Arthur C. Clarke, Robert Heinlein, Ray Bradbury, and Kurt Vonnegut. When I read science fiction I saw stuff in my head that I had never seen in films.” He also loved the films of underwater pioneer Jacques Cousteau: “I began to think of the deep ocean as outer space. This was an alien world I could actually reach.”

Dad was a quiet, thoughtful electrical engineer who gave his son a healthy interest in hard science. With his younger brother Mike playing Igor to his Dr. Frankenstein (Mike would himself become an engineer, and later developed some of the equipment his filmmaker brother used to explore the depths of the sea) Cameron regularly engaged in scientific experiments. One day saw them constructing a submersible “out of a mayonnaise jar, an erector set and a paint bucket,” complete with a live mouse as crew, and sending it to the bottom of a river on a rope (the little critter survived). Another time, they had the fire department chasing (and bystanders reporting as a UFO) a hot-air balloon constructed with dry-cleaning bags and lofted into the air by the heat generated by on-board candles. (more…)

I missed the series premiere of “V,” but not the ongoing flap afterwards. The remake of the 1984 sci-fi classic seems to have hit a lot of nerves on the left and found an audience on the right. Left-wing media types are outraged that the series “degrades” the Obama administration, and some on the right are wondering if a Hollywood talent has been dismissed from his job for political reasons. As I write this, I’m watching O’Reilly go on about “the writers taking shots at President Obama.” 

As it happens, I’m acquainted with Scott Peters who developed and wrote the remake of “V” for ABC.  Mr. Peters was also the creator and executive producer of “The 4400” and a writer for “The Outer Limits.” As far as I know Mr. Peters has only made one mistake in his career and that was directing me in the low-budget film “Don: Plain and Tall” back in 2003. It was the story of my friend comedian Don McMillan’s life as a comic. I played myself in the film and the part was horribly miscast. 

When I started reading some of the rumors and theories about Mr. Peters’ latest show and the behind-the-scenes politics, I laughed out loud.  Let me try to shed some light on the “V” controversy. (more…)

The way I see it television needs, among other things, the following:

1. Science Fiction/Thriller/Horror Channel

A short form/short film channel showcasing those genres. Independent producers, writers, creators could submit work to be aired. It wouldn’t have to be, nor should it be at the Sundance level of professionalism delivered on DigiBeta and starring Cameron Diaz doing a favor for the filmmaker because it’s her friend’s cousin, either.

We don’t want that. There’s plenty of that kind of venue and they turn down 99% of the stuff submitted anyway, mainly because it’s not the work of someone’s friend’s cousin. So forget that right away. It has to be underground, guerilla, shoestring and, most important, good. Very good. Damn good. But not expensive. How can you do that, you say? 

With writing.   (more…)